


hallway weather

by excorde (constant)



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Christmas setting, Exes, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Feelings, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, WebDev! Junkyu, painter! jihoon, pls check it out, title taken from queen niki's new single
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28263546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constant/pseuds/excorde
Summary: The easy way is telling Mother and Grandma the truth - that Jihoon is not coming over for Christmas. Or any time at all, for that matter, because they’ve broken up. Unfortunately for us all, Junkyu likes to take things the hard way.The hard way is walking up to Jihoon’s door, reciting the words that took him too long to construct (five days) over and over:“I know we broke up, but do you want to come over for Christmas?"
Relationships: Kim Junkyu/Park Jihoon
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75





	hallway weather

**Author's Note:**

> writing this was supposed to destress me from the thing that's stressing me but it ended up stressing me more than what should have stressed me [screams into a void]
> 
> to meadea, ty for not failing to mention this wip in every conversation we had after i mentioned this to u. ngl i almost dropped this if it wasnt for ur motivational screams at me to finish it :D [glares at u lovingly] 
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UT05l99mdhDRENKaBZWcu?si=lKbDolIyQZW_MoATNeG0jA)

_December 03_

He gets it now. 

As Junkyu stares at the painted ceiling of his bedroom, he only starts to understand why he had asked for a landscape portrait of all things, specifying his request to _blue waters_ and _pretty flowers_. 

It’s hypnotizing, almost, as he lays there with his arms splayed on the soft sheets of his bed. It relaxes his mind, and the memories it holds - right from the start when the idea was first spoken out, to being a work in progress, to the smudges of paint on their wrists, to the laughter, and the stolen kisses - sends a profound warmth to his heart. 

He thinks there is no better way to unwind from a stressful week than this (especially when his belly is full of cheese _ramyun_ to top it off).

It had been a full month since Junkyu got promoted, since his work schedule had gotten all wonky and his colleagues had reassured him that flexible schedules are, at most times, the best. 

He would have agreed, if a web developer like him had a computer at home. Or a laptop. He used to have one until he accidentally spilled coffee all over the device. (When he closes his eyes sometimes, he can still see the sparks from the effect of the scalding liquid. Like pretty little fireworks.) He couldn't immediately afford himself a new one, nor a hand-me-down, because aside from the fact that devs like him need high-end laptops to actually get work done, he also needs to pay rent, bills, feed himself, and other daily indirect expenses.

That's the reason why he has worked his ass off these past few months - to buy himself a computer so he can _fucking finally_ work from home, so then he can- 

Junkyu startles at the sound of his ringtone blaring. 

He reaches out for it on the bedside table, answering the call without bothering to check the caller. 

" _Henlo_?" 

“Junkyu, my baby! My pumpkin! The light of my life-” 

Junkyu plants his face into the pillow and groans. “ _Mom_.” 

He has never been fond of the nickname his mother had given him. 

_The light of my life._

Not because she still uses it up to this day when Junkyu is 24 years old, and addresses him in max volume wherever they may be, but because it's directly correlated to the nickname she made up for his father.

_The love of my life._

The same father who left their family for another woman. 

("Why are you still calling him the love of your life when he broke your heart, mom?" 

"Why, because he is. Even though I feel like I could dismember him the next time I see him, I know that a part of me will always love him." She might have noticed the frown on Junkyu's face then, because she proceeds, "But that doesn't mean I would take him back if he ever-" 

"He's not coming back, mom." 

Mother laughs. "I know." She caresses his hair before planting a peck on Junkyu's forehead. "You were the light when he left me in the dark, Junkyu.)

“Kind of you to finally answer my call. Is everything okay, pumpkin?” 

“Yeah, mom. Sorry. Just busy. Is everything okay there?” 

“Yes, yes. We’re great. I’m just checking in on you. How’s work?” 

Junkyu rolls to his side, planting the phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He sighs, “It’s work.”

“You’re not tiring yourself too much, are you?” 

“Just the moderate kind.” 

“They _are_ letting you have a holiday vacation, right?” 

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“So, you’re coming home?” 

“Sure.” 

His mother squeals into the phone, and Junkyu has to lean a little away from the mobile so as not to shatter his eardrums. Then she exclaims, voice directed slightly away from the phone, “ _Junkyu’s coming home this Christmas!”_

The next round of chatters are his grandmother’s and mother’s excited tones blending together, and despite the ear-splitting noise, it brings a smile to his face. 

For the last three years, Junkyu has been away from home more often than he had been home. Every time he had to leave, Mother and Grandma would always send him off with a teary goodbye because they both knew it would take awhile again before he could visit, even though Chungju is literally just a 2-hr ride away from Seoul. 

Just then his grandmother yells something from the back, and it’s loud enough for him to hear, too sudden to render Junkyu speechless. “ _Ask him about Jihoon_!” 

“Oh- right! _Right_!” A slight ruffle on the other end of the line, then: “Darling, how’s Jihoon?” 

Just minutes ago, when he had sprawled himself on bed and there's nothing else he could see but the painting on a minor portion of his ceiling, Junkyu had _soared_. 

Now he’s sinking, descending towards the hole that is digging itself inside him, and even when he flicks his gaze from one spot to another, even when he closes his eyes, all he can see now is Jihoon. 

Jihoon is like his home - much like this apartment, much like the one in Chungju. Lost and forgotten while Junkyu had buried himself in work. 

“Are you bringing him with you?” 

Bringing him-? 

“Huh?” 

“Great! I'm so excited to see him again. Grandma hasn't met him yet so she's even more elated than I-” 

“Mom, wait- I didn't say-” 

Then his mother must have passed the phone to his grandma, or his grandma stole the phone from her - Junkyu could picture either way - because next thing he knows, Grandma is speaking to him oh so sweetly as if he’s still the same 7-year old boy who used to sit on her lap and asked for bedtime stories. 

“Junkyu-ya, what is your Jihoon’s favorite dish?” 

_Your Jihoon._

“Um, _halmeoni-_ ” 

"I've been working on my culinary skills lately. I know it’s a few years too late to impress men with my cooking, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do the same to my grandchildren. Not in a romantic way of course!” 

When Grandma starts rambling, you can’t just wait for her to stop - 

“ _Sundubu jiggae_.” Junkyu says. 

\- You _have_ to interrupt her.

“What was that?”

Funny how it felt like a hole has dug inside him, but his chest feels more heavy than hollow. Or both, though he doesn’t know how that’s possible. 

Junkyu sighs, “He likes _Sundubu jiggae._ ” 

He can almost see the smile in his grandma's face when she says, “Perfect. I’ll make the best one for him.”

  
  


For the rest of the night, long after the call with his mom has ended, Junkyu finally lets go of the walls he has been holding up, allowing his thoughts to be filled with nothing but Jihoon - wondering how he’s doing, what he had for dinner, if he has finally decided to buy that vacuum cleaner, or if he has gotten a haircut since the last time Junkyu has seen him… 

You know. Just normal thoughts for someone who’s thinking of the boyfriend they broke up with some months ago. 

_December 11_

The easy way is telling Mother and Grandma the truth. 

That Jihoon is not coming over for Christmas. Or any time at all, for that matter, because they’ve broken up.

Unfortunately for us all, Junkyu likes to take things the hard way. 

The hard way is walking up to Jihoon’s door, reciting the words that took him too long to construct (five days) over and over: “I _know we broke up, but do you want to come over for Christmas?_ ” 

He doesn’t even get the chance to process how ridiculous this sounds, doesn’t even get the chance to hesitate. There’s a Christmas wreath on Jihoon’s door (but so do the rest of the doors on the floor), but Junkyu still glares at the big dumb ribbon like the decoration is put there deliberately to taunt him on the purpose of his visit, and he’s not just about to back down from a challenge.

Before he can make up his mind and finally knock, the door swings open before him, and his senses tumble out and away, feeling himself disconnect from everything that is internal. Everything else draws _in_. 

Jihoon is standing by the doorway, still in his pyjamas, hair ruffled to an extent that one might think he just got out of bed. He looks just as shocked to see Junkyu if the gaping is any indication, and good God, he did have a haircut. 

“Who is it?” 

Junkyu catches a whiff of paint - Jihoon always smells of paint - and _candy perfume_ . A woman appears behind Jihoon, and just like that, the little bubble around Junkyu disappears in a soft _pop_ and he gets pulled right back face-first on the ground. 

He looks from the woman to Jihoon, who doesn’t appear to have heard her, still looking towards Junkyu as if figuring out if he’s real. 

Junkyu takes it upon himself to react to the situation before him, “I’m here to get my toothbrush.” 

The woman steps closer, squinting, obviously skeptical, obviously judging him. She also makes sure to stop right where her shoulder brushes against Jihoon. “Sorry?” She asks.

"He's my-" 

“We used to be roommates.” Junkyu cuts him off, forcing a smile at the woman before looking back at Jihoon. As soon as their eyes meet, Junkyu wipes the smile off his face. 

The silence that follows is so loud it rings in Junkyu’s ears, almost making him flee from the scene without another word. 

Then Jihoon speaks, tone low and hesitant, “It’s in the bathroom.” 

Somehow, the two make space for him, and Junkyu hastily steps inside with a hold of his breath and makes his way into the all-too familiar apartment. Right before closing the bathroom door, he hears the woman say, “ _Who the hell comes back for their toothbrush?_ ” 

“Fuck.” Junkyu releases the breath he’s holding, leaning against the doorframe as his legs give out. “ _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck_ . _Fuck_.” 

He takes a minute to gather his bearings, to give his heart the time to settle down. Then he rummages through the upper cupboard and finds the green plastic cup where, just as expected, his toothbrush is still placed. It’s a miracle Jihoon still hasn’t thrown it out. 

When he walks out of the bathroom, he’s not at all surprised to find Jihoon all alone. He gets on his feet as soon as Junkyu appears, giving the other the idea that he has been waiting for him to come out. 

There are canvases lying about the living room, some of them crossed out with furious marks of ink, most of them are half-finished pieces of undecipherable shapes and figures. He looks away from the pieces, not wanting Jihoon to catch him in the act of admiring his work in this untimely situation. 

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Asking that question feels like he just pulled a trigger to his own head. 

Jihoon frowns. “She’s- not-” Stammers. Then he sighs, letting his shoulders sag in a defeated manner. He looks at Junkyu the same way he used to when he gives up on an argument. 

“Kyu, what is this really about?” 

“I told you-” Junkyu lifts his toothbrush casually, features astonishingly stoic and calm. “I’m here to get this.” 

“I know you’re lying.” Jihoon counters. 

_Of course you do._

Junkyu sighs, his eyes wandering towards the kitchen where he spots two mugs on the table. He wouldn’t have minded this had he not recognized one of which. 

“Is that my _mug_?” And turning to face Jihoon, he asks, “Are you letting her use my mug?”

“What-?” Jihoon follows his gaze, confusedly at first, and when his sight lands on the kitchen table he quickly masks a defensive expression. “No, of course not! _I’m_ using it.”

Junkyu doesn’t even know what to say to that. 

They both know how Junkyu’s super sensitive about people using his own mugs or cups. The only ones he has ever allowed to share his mugs with are his mom and… well, this guy in the room with him right now. 

Jihoon asks after a beat of awkward silence, “Do you want to take it with you too?” 

“No, you can keep it.”

Jihoon nods thoughtfully. “Okay. All right. So you want to tell me what’s going on now?” 

Junkyu stares at him for a good five seconds, and Jihoon holds his gaze steady. It’s always Junkyu who breaks the stare. It’s still Junkyu who breaks it this time, heading towards the couch as an excuse. He plops on the farthest side away from the other, letting a throw pillow on his lap. 

Jihoon waits for him to speak as he settles on the opposite end of the couch. One of the things he likes about Jihoon is that he always seems to understand that Junkyu needs a little more time when being confronted about something important. (And he’s very patient about it too.) 

“You know that Christmas is coming, right?” 

Jihoon purses his lips. Junkyu thinks he sees a trace of a smile but he’s not exactly sure. “I’ve been informed, yes.” 

“Great. Well, Grandma’s expecting me to bring you home this Christmas.” Junkyu fixes his gaze on the frills sewn into the pillow. “You know how she has always looked forward to meeting you. Maybe if we can just _pretend_ for a little bit and…” 

He trails off, only realizing then how ridiculous it sounds after it comes out of his mouth. For a short moment, the room lapses into that awkward silence again, and Junkyu doesn’t know how he manages to hold out this long when his heart feels like it could burst any second.

“I don’t get it. What are you trying to say?” 

“I haven’t told them we’ve broken up.” Junkyu deadpans. 

Realization dawns on Jihoon’s face, and he buries his head in his hands as he groans, “Holy shit, Junkyu. _Why_.” 

“It just never crossed my mind! It’s not like I tell my mom every little thing about my life.” 

“Was the breakup a little thing for you?” 

“What?” 

“Is a breakup a little thing for you?” 

Junkyu swears he’s hearing it differently from the first, but he decides to drop it as he shrugs, “I never had the time to tell them.” 

“When do you.” 

“ _What_?” 

When Junkyu looks towards him, he’s already shaking his head. “You can’t expect me to come with you in Chungju, lie in front of your family, and act like everything’s okay.” A pause. When he speaks again, his voice has dropped to a whisper, “Like we’re okay. Like we’re still together… Could you handle that?”

Junkyu almost lies that he can. 

“Right.” He says instead. “You’re right. We can’t do this. I don’t know why I asked you in the first place. This is stupid. Your girlfriend would kick me in the ass when she finds out.” 

“Kyu-” 

Junkyu gets on his feet. “Forget I said anything.” Upon reaching the front door, he turns back one last time, “Actually, forget I ever came here today.” 

  
  


Junkyu finds a trash bin in the lobby on his way down. He thinks it dumb that even for just a splitting second, he had grown attached to something he shouldn’t. 

Without another thought, he chucks his toothbrush in the bin. 

_December 16_

Junkyu was the one who called it off. 

Work was hectic. (It still is, but.) It's different when there's someone waiting for you to come home every night. Someone who has prepared an entire meal for you, _for the both of you_ , and has fallen asleep on the kitchen table in the midst of waiting, the food already turned cold. 

Junkyu would feel all sorts of guilt whenever he finds Jihoon like that, whenever he has to cancel another date night because he’s called back to work again. 

It wasn’t like this before Junkyu spilled coffee on his laptop. 

That's the reason why he has worked his ass off these past few months - to buy himself a computer so he can _fucking finally_ work from home, so he can finally spend more time with Jihoon. 

Jihoon understands of course, he even offered to pay half for the computer, but Junkyu wouldn’t let him.

But sometimes he doesn’t. 

Sometimes he couldn’t hide the irritation. The impatience. The need for affection and attention. They argued about it a few times, but it had never gotten to the point where either had considered a breakup because they somehow managed to work it out. Because Jihoon had always been the one to drop it first. He always did - embracing Junkyu in the middle of an argument, crying into his shoulder saying just how much he missed him. 

Of course, there had been moments when Junkyu could make time for him, and such moments were so rare that he expected nothing to get in the way of them. 

Twice he was proven wrong when it was Jihoon himself who ruined these. 

Right when he had been available, Jihoon _hadn’t_. And Junkyu, because he had expected too much, had gotten upset. 

It's like their stars never aligned. 

It always slipped right through their fingers. 

Junkyu’s mistake was starting it, Jihoon’s mistake was letting it. 

Believe it or not, Junkyu was still mad the morning after that heated argument. He left work at the break of dawn when Jihoon had still been asleep. He came back late that night, only to find the apartment half-empty. Jihoon had already left. 

To answer his question - Yes, the breakup had been easy, only because there was the workload that distracted him. He looked for reasons to stay in the office on some nights, when the void inside him had felt most palpable. When the loneliness crept in like vines growing on walls. When he missed Jihoon the most. 

Then Junkyu fell into the cadence of his job, and there had been nothing else in his mind for _weeks_ but the rushed project that had been assigned on their team. For weeks, it was just coffee, codes, the same five faces from his team, and the quick naps he can sneak in between work. 

There had been no apartment. No home cooked meals. No comfortable bed. No Jihoon. 

But as the days close in faster to the holidays, and their workload becomes less and less, Junkyu is finally allowed more time to spend in his apartment. 

He has the computer now. 

It sits on a desk in his bedroom, displaying itself like some cosmic joke because the very reason why Junkyu needs it in the first place is now gone. 

There’s no reason for him to waste time in his apartment. He can’t stand being in here for too long. It hurts every time to find the seat across from him on the dining table empty, or that the space beside him on the bed is untouched. Or to simply glance at the carpet that Jihoon helped pick. Or to just _look_ at his bedroom ceiling. 

He misses him. _God_ , how he misses him. 

He can’t even hit Jihoon up and tell him he finally has the computer. 

If he hadn't witnessed what he had when he visited Jihoon a week ago, he would have given him a call already. Tell him he's sorry. Tell him he wants him back. Tell him that he still loves him so _so_ much. 

But there was that. The candy perfume. The new bearer to Jihoon’s heart. 

So Junkyu lets his phone untouched, draping the blanket over his head as he cries himself to sleep. 

_December 22_

The neighborhood will always look the same to Junkyu even if he notices the subtle changes. Despite the foggy car window, he can just make out the blinking streetlight across their street. The last time he was here, it hadn’t been conking out like that. Mrs. Lee now has a blue roof, and Choi’s residence has a treehouse in their front yard. 

Junkyu hurriedly pays the cab and steps out on the sidewalk, breath hitching as the cold hits his skin. 

As if it’s not enough that he’s already struggling to block all these feelings and thoughts away, the cab had to have that sickly sweet freshener. 

Like candy perfume. 

  
  
  


_He smelled like candy perfume._

_Jihoon._

_When he went home that night. When Junkyu stayed up, waiting for him to call, or to just respond to his texts. It’s like their roles were reversed that night. So this is how Jihoon feels every time he has to stay up waiting for Junkyu. Miserable. Pathetic._

  
  
  


Junkyu crouches over, hands on his knees, inhaling a deep breath. He lets his bag drop on the ground and tries not to mind the cold too much. 

  
  
  


_Jihoon had pulled him in for a hug, and it was obvious in the way he staggered, the way he had giggled and blurted out nonsense that he had been drunk. But that’s not why Junkyu pushed him away._

_"Where have you been?"_

_Jihoon balked at his coldness, the grin fading from his face. For a brief moment, he looked completely sober. “Haruto returned from Japan. The whole team threw a party for him. I told you about it, remember?"_

_“No, you didn’t.”_

_“Yes, I did. We were having breakfast. You were on the phone.”_

_Junkyu gritted his teeth. “Maybe if you_ told _me while I was paying attention-”_

 _“Maybe if you just paid the_ slightest _bit of attention, Junkyu.”_

  
  
  


Junkyu takes whatever’s left of his strength to climb up their porch. His mother and grandma put up christmas lights by the front door, as well as a little wreath in the center, much like the one he had encountered some weeks ago. 

  
  
  


_“You know how busy I am, Jihoon.”_

_“I know. I do know. It’s just- is it not enough that you’re already away for most of the day and still be mentally detached when you’re with me? And what’s this about getting upset because I hung out with my friends-?” Junkyu started to shake his head at this. He wanted to say, ‘It’s not about that.’_

_It’s not about you forgetting our anniversary or not caring to respond to my texts while I worried about your ass because I didn’t know that you had a party._

_It’s the candy perfume. You smell like candy perfume._

_“Kyu, I want you to understand that I have a life outside this relationship too. It’s not always about me sitting around and waiting for you. It’s not always about you."_

_You smell like candy perfume, the same scent from your shirt last week. And the week before that._

" _I'm not asking you to wait for me."_

_Jihoon was silent for a second, mouth agape as he waited for Junkyu to continue. "What are you trying to say?"_

_You smell like candy perfume. Neither of us wear candy perfume._

  
  
  


Junkyu doesn’t ring the doorbell, but it swings open anyway as if his grandma had a way of knowing of his arrival. 

She gasps his name in delighted surprise, and Junkyu forces a smile at her, then to her mom who has rushed to the threshold after her. 

They exchange greetings, long hugs, and a few kisses. His grandma ushers him inside, nagging right off the bat how he had worn thin layered clothing in this freezing weather, while his mom offers to take his bag from him, even if he tries to resist. 

Amidst the hubbub, his mom suddenly remembers: “Where’s Jihoon?” 

Junkyu turns from one face to the other, aware of the smile that disappears upon the mention of the name. 

He shakes his head. 

They understand. 

_December 24_

His mother has always loved decorating the house whenever the holidays neared despite the fact that she chose not to get baptized in her teenage years, and though they respected her decision, there still had been a slight disappointment on his grandma and grandpa's side. Grandma’s the one who's religious, not failing to remind them every year that the reason for celebration is Jesus' birth, and not for the presents, or Santa Claus, or the jingles (his mom would frown at this- she _loves_ Christmas jingles). 

Then there’s Junkyu, who’s just glad to have this special time of the year to spend with his family. He smiles fondly at the two women as they argue over who gets to choose what to play on the home speaker, his phone getting passed on to and fro in such a manner that makes him worried. One corner is campaigning for _Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree_ while the other insists on _O Come All Ye Faithful._

Junkyu prefers to keep himself out of the narration, especially when his grandma turns towards him and asks, "What do you think, Junkyu?" So when the doorbell rings, he immediately offers to get it.

"Are you expecting someone, mom?" He asks as he unties his apron and places it on the counter. 

"Probably just Mrs. Lee with her annual rice cake." 

Junkyu trudges to the door with a hum. 

It feels almost like deja vu - opening the door. Junkyu disconnects, then everything draws in. 

" _Pumpkin, who is it_?" His mom calls from the kitchen when it's been a few seconds too long that he has been silent. 

He’ll tell her this, though: It's totally _not_ Mrs. Lee and her rice cake. 

In his panic, Junkyu shuts the door without much thought, slamming it in front of the guest's face. 

When Junkyu returns to the kitchen, he finds Grandma ogling at his phone with excited eyes. " _He's at the door!"_

_Fuck_. Fuck, of course he texted him. 

Mother looks up from the batter of cookies to look at her questioningly. “Who?" 

“ _Halmeoni-_ ” 

Junkyu doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his grandma pushes past him. “ _Move_ , my grandson’s at the door!” 

“Grandson?" Mom asks, still confused. He looks at Junkyu, who's trying his best not to give his current emotions away through his face. "And who are you?” 

Grandma reappears in the kitchen in a second, pulling the same guest that Junkyu has slammed the door on a while ago. 

Mom gasps. " _Jihoon_!"

The aforementioned man lets out a timid smile, then he bows, " _Annyeonghaseyo, eommeoni._ I hope I'm not-" 

He gets cut off when Mom pulls him in for a hug. 

"Oh, my baby! I missed you so much! I'm so glad you could come." 

Junkyu's mother is way shorter than him, so he has to bend down a little to embrace her. With his head on her shoulder, Jihoon suddenly lifts his gaze, eyes meeting with Junkyu's.

He says, "Me too." 

Jihoon looks flushed. It could be due to the weather outside, or just that he's back here in Junkyu's childhood home that is making him overwhelmed. 

Junkyu breaks eye contact, returning to his spot on the counter. He's just fastening back the apron around him when he hears Grandma say, "Now go leave your stuff in Junkyu's room. You do know where it is, don't you?"

" _No!_ " 

All three heads turn to Junkyu. 

He stammers. "I mean, no because… I haven't cleaned my room yet." 

Grandma waves a hand as if to dismiss him. "No worries. I'm sure Jihoon doesn't mind that." - In the corner of his eye, he can sense his mom's worried gaze on him - "I'm sure Jihoon has seen far dirtier things than your room-" 

" _Halmeoni!_ " 

But his grandmother’s lewd implication leaves his mind immediately when Jihoon's laughter resonates in the room. 

Junkyu has long realized that he has the knack to be overly dramatic but _wow -_ the way his heart twirled in his chest when Jihoon laughed. 

"As a matter of fact, I do know where it is, _halmeoni_." After letting Grandma pat his head, Jihoon sends a wary glance in Junkyu's direction, as if asking if it's okay to head there on his own. Well it's not like he hasn't been there before so Junkyu gives a subtle nod before heading towards the sink to wash his hands. 

He knows Jihoon has already headed upstairs because grandma is now sighing dreamily, saying, "I love that child." 

Junkyu turns around to shoot her a glare. 

Grandma clasps a hand to her chest, feigning offense. " _What?_ " 

  
  


Jihoon helps out in the kitchen, as expected, and Junkyu pretends to be super focused on the poached potatoes as Mom and Grandma fuss over him when he enters the room. 

“You can help Junkyu with whatever he’s doing.” 

_Grandma_. Really. 

Junkyu is expecting to be addressed. For Jihoon to ask something like, “Do you need help there, Kyu?” 

That’s what Jihoon should have done, so Junkyu would easily shut him off with a direct, ‘no’. 

Instead, he feels a pair of arms snake around his torso, pulling him in an embrace that makes him fold into the other perfectly. 

Fortunately, they’re facing away from Mom and Grandma, or else they would have seen the panicked look on Junkyu's face. 

" _Park Jihoon_." He says under his breath, almost like a warning. 

"What?" Jihoon whispers back, his warm breath tickling Junkyu's cheek from where he has placed his chin on his shoulder. "Isn't this what you wanted?" 

A little more loudly, he says, "I missed you." 

Junkyu hears a squeal from the back. He can also hear his heart pounding, and he can only wish that Jihoon doesn't notice it. 

" _Say it back_." Jihoon whispers. 

" _I'm not gonna say it back._ " 

" _For the audience, Kyu._ " 

Junkyu finds Jihoon's hands from where he has them clasped around Junkyu's front, and he gives them a little pinch. 

Jihoon winces the same time Junkyu says, "I missed you too, babe." 

When Jihoon nuzzles his face into his neck, that's when Junkyu finally pries away from his grasp. 

“Hey, look! We have matching aprons.” 

Jihoon is wearing the other pair of the Mickey Mouse apron - the Minnie Mouse one - and is beaming at Junkyu like this is the most important fact of history. His sweater sleeves are pulled up to his elbows, fitting a little too tight around his buff arms. 

Before his mind can think of more _thoughts_ , Junkyu turns his head away.

“Jihoon, come over here and try this!” 

Junkyu avoids him for the rest of the time they spend going around the kitchen. And if his mom and grandma notice this, they don't point it out. Not out loud, at least. 

His mom has managed to corner him, making sure they were out of earshot from the other two. 

"Are you in some kind of passive fight? You seem mad at him." She says in a whisper. 

"No." Junkyu deadpans, though he knows she doesn't buy it. 

The only good thing he can pick out from the entire situation is that Jihoon matches grandma well. Jihoon has always been a good listener, knowing when and how to react in every conversation, and he seems to know just what to say to make grandma even more delighted than she already is. 

He makes grandma laugh a lot, one that makes Junkyu forget about his internal angst and allow himself another glance in their direction. 

He must be projecting the bloom inside his chest into his face, because a few times after looking at Jihoon's way, he would catch his mother's approving smile. 

Other times, he would lock eyes with Jihoon, but Junkyu immediately turns away as if he's on autopilot. 

Then the moment he has been dreading for finally arrives. 

Grandma sends them off to rest and _'catch up'_ , insisting that she and mom can finish the rest of the preparations for dinner. 

Junkyu honestly couldn't stand his mom's knowing glances any longer, so he sets off without being told twice, feeling Jihoon following closely behind. 

"Sorry for coming in such short notice." Jihoon says as he closes the door after him. 

"No worries." Junkyu plops down on his bed. It's kind of awkward to ask Jihoon to sit with him, so he doesn't. "I think it worked out well, to be honest. My mom suspects we're fighting, a good cover up for the-" He pauses. “ _-awkwardness_ between us.” 

Jihoon heads to the desk, where Junkyu notices he has placed his bags on. Instead of sitting down on the chair like Junkyu expects, he leans against the table and crosses his arms over himself. "So I guess she's expecting that we're all made up when we leave this room?" 

Junkyu shrugs. "Yeah. Probably." 

"Then we have to act like we're okay, Kyu." 

"I can do that." 

"You should start now." 

"Sure." 

"First, you have to look at me." 

"Sure." 

A pause, then Jihoon says in the gentlest tone, "Junkyu, look at me." 

Junkyu looks at him. 

"If you want to act like we're still together, you shouldn't avoid my gaze like I'm Medusa or something. When we're out there- just- look at me, smile, and let me do the rest." 

He's talking like they're strategizing WW3. Junkyu doesn't even want to know what he's planning to do with ' _the_ _rest’_ , so he changes the subject, asking, "What changed your mind?" 

"Huh?" 

"Coming here? The last time we saw each other, you seemed pretty dead-set against the idea of coming here."

“To be your _pretend_ boyfriend.” Jihoon corrects him, and as if realizing what he just said, he adds, “I didn’t want to lie to your mom and grandma.” 

Junkyu flicks his gaze out the window but there's nothing to look at there with the curtains drawn, so he looks at his nails, pretending to pick at something just to avoid the other’s eyes. “So if you didn’t wanna lie, why are you here?” 

“Do you not want me here? Cause I can leave.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Junkyu finds himself hurriedly replying when Jihoon moves to lift his bags off the desk, but upon the former’s outburst, he drops his hands, clasps them on his stomach and looks towards him with a smile. 

“Okay, I’ll stay.” 

Junkyu rolls his eyes, “You’re avoiding the question.” 

After a short silence, Jihoon shrugs. "My parents are in Bali, and with them gone, I have no one to spend the holidays with. So I thought, why not?" 

_So you didn't have a choice._

Junkyu really didn't want to ask, but- "What about your girlfriend?" 

" _Girlfriend_?" Jihoon frowns as if the word is poison in his mouth. He sees Junkyu's expression, and it is there where he must have understood. 

"Kyu, Wooyeon's not my girlfriend." 

Junkyu hums. "But she has a name and everything." 

" _What-_?" Jihoon scoffs. "Of course she does!" 

There is a knock on the door, and before either of them knows it, Grandma is sticking her head inside with tightly shut eyes. "I'm coming in! Is it safe?" 

" _Halmeoni!_ " Junkyu whines. 

She opens her eyes and grins, "Dinner's ready." 

Dinner is more nerve-wracking than he thought. For one, he can't easily turn and hide his involuntary reactions from his companions. For another, there's Jihoon who's acting out his earlier words of, 'let me do the rest'.

He's currently piling up Junkyu's bowl, and it feels so weird because he should be the one doing that to him because _Jihoon's_ the guest. 

When he's done, Jihoon looks up to meet his eyes, and Junkyu feels his own lips stretch into what he thinks is a smile, and he must have pulled it off because the other lets out a soft chuckle, reaching a hand to pinch his cheek. "Cute." Jihoon muses. 

Someone clears their throat. Grandma fixes them with a look across the table, while Mom amusedly looks on with a tender smile. 

"Reserve your affections after dinner." Grandma warns. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Thanks to this reminder, the ' _couple'_ doesn't overdo it, and Junkyu doesn't find it hard to do the things Jihoon had told him to - to look at him and smile - because Jihoon becomes the star of the night. 

He magnetizes everyone with his life stories - from his most favorite Christmas memory, to the craziest present he has ever received. Junkyu has already heard some of them, and he's surprised to find how engrossed he is to the stories he’s hearing for the first time. He never thought there’d still be more to know about this man he has spent his life with for almost three years. 

Dinner is filled with laughter, compliments ("Your _sundubu jiggae_ is fantastic, halmeoni!"), stolen stares, and smiles.

Aside from the act of wiping something off of the side of Junkyu's mouth, Jihoon doesn't do anything else that is too drastic to render the other's heart into a crisis. 

On the contrary, his heart feels calmer. While he had been full with nerves at the beginning of dinner, Junkyu finds now that he doesn't have to fake his smiles, that he can butt into the conversation without worrying too much about what his mom and grandma would think, that he can now shamelessly look at Jihoon whenever he wants. 

His mother is telling them an episode she had with her patients, one which Junkyu believes he has already heard of before, so he directs his focus on Jihoon, who's nodding and smiling at her in the right pauses and moments. 

As Junkyu revels in the way his lashes flutter with every blink, in the way his eyes glint with every smile, his mind winds back to that thing Jihoon has said to him before. When they had been laying in bed side by side. _When they were still together._

"I wish I knew what you're thinking." 

Junkyu had stripped his gaze away from the ceiling then, tilting his head to smile at the man sprawled beside him, "I was just thinking that my ceiling looks horribly plain is all." 

Junkyu swears it wasn't an implication for him to paint his ceiling, but Jihoon still insists. 

"I want to make something for you that could set you in a good mood every time you wake up in the morning. Do you have anything in mind?" 

_A landscape portrait with blue waters and pretty flowers._

A very general description but Jihoon has managed to transform it into one specific image, one that speaks right to Junkyu's heart. 

Grandma says something that makes Jihoon laugh, a bright and honest laugh. If Jihoon can hear his thoughts now, Junkyu briefly wonders how he would react. 

_'I love you. I love you. I love you… I love you so much it's killing me.'_

Their eyes connect - Jihoon must have felt him staring - and Junkyu wakes from his thoughts with a startled gasp.

"You okay?" 

Junkyu nods, recovering quickly as he purses his lips in a smile. "Yeah."

Mom says something right then, and Jihoon returns his attention back on her. 

Junkyu jumps a little on his seat when he feels a soft hand find its way on top of his, and he stops breathing altogether when he realizes it's Jihoon. 

He waits for him to let go, but he doesn't. Throughout the rest of dinner, Jihoon keeps their hands together under the table. 

He doesn't understand what it is for, since no one else can see their intertwined hands but _them_ , but for his heart's sake, Junkyu lets him be.

The thought of _sleeping,_ or more precisely, the thought of _them_ sleeping together in the same room - _in the same bed_ \- never crosses Junkyu's mind until he finds Jihoon sitting on the edge of the mattress. 

When Junkyu reappears from the bathroom, he gets on his feet, eyes widening a fraction as he ogles at Junkyu's damp hair. He’s suddenly reminded of all the times Jihoon had gushed about his _wet look_ , how he had used to take minutes just to admire Junkyu after he had stepped out of the shower. Like a weirdo. Hiding his blush, Junkyu ruffles his hair with the towel and makes his way towards him. 

"Do we have to sleep in the same bed?" Junkyu asks, not meeting his eye. 

"Of course we do, Kyu. Grandma's going to peek into our room some time later and it'll just raise suspicions when she sees that we're sleeping in separate beds."

Junkyu tries not to think too much about the fact that he called it, ' _our room_ '. 

"Besides," Jihoon continues, "It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before."

"Well, that's-" Junkyu turns towards him to argue, meets the other's unfaltering gaze, then thinks better of it. "That's. Um. That was. Different." 

Junkyu could only watch in disbelief as Jihoon throws himself onto the bed, snuggling and turning until he deems it comfortable enough before pulling the blankets to his shoulders. "If you don't want to, I'm not gonna ask you twice." Jihoon has the audacity to say. 

Junkyu stands there for a long dumbstruck moment, his mind whirring in consternation, wondering briefly if he is indeed in his own house because it definitely does not feel like it. 

Moments later, he finally gathers the will to turn the lights off, then heads towards the other side of the bed, where he knows is unoccupied. 

He doesn't get the jitters until he feels the bed dip under him, until he turns his back away from Jihoon and opts to stay in that position until morning. Because even though he can't see a thing in the dark, he can feel Jihoon's eyes trained on him, and he only confirms this when the blanket is later slung over him in a gentle manner, and he hears him whisper, 

"Goodnight, Kyu." 

  
  


Junkyu has his eyes shut for most of the time - trying to sleep, pretending to be asleep, but not really sleeping. 

The last time he and Jihoon had shared a bed was the night they broke up, and that was as cold as this is awkward and weird. 

Awkward and weird because Junkyu's not used to this huge space between them, not used to the way he's not plastered against Jihoon, not used to the way Jihoon's arms aren't wrapped around him. 

It's almost torture, having him just a hairbreadth away, inhaling the scent of acrylic and pastel, and not being able to do any of those things. 

And because he misses him so much, Junkyu throws caution to the wind and opens his eyes, just to get a peek of him and hopefully appease his yearning heart. 

It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust in the dark, and when it does, he realizes that Jihoon has been wide awake all along, staring at Junkyu with a hand tucked under his cheek.

Junkyu hopes his face doesn't give away his shock. 

"Why aren't you sleeping?" He whispers in the dark, and Jihoon blinks before peering at him with a shine in his eyes that makes the other nervous. 

"Why aren't _you_?" 

_Because I can't. Because you're right here, and I can't hold you the same way I used to._

"Go to sleep." Junkyu says instead, closing his eyes again just to drop the conversation, hoping this time, sleep will finally find him. 

  
  


It doesn't. 

Or maybe it has, it's just that a part of Junkyu's mind has been actively conscious of Jihoon's presence, and every time the other does so much as shift or sigh, he stirs a little and is awoken again. 

"Junkyu." 

Junkyu blinks drowsily in the dark. 

"Kyu." 

His sight adjusts, and realizes that his back is still to Jihoon. He can't see him, but he can feel the warmth exuding from his body, even more so than before. That makes him realize that Jihoon has somehow shifted closer, and so dangerously close at that. 

"Kyu," A pause. A shaky breath, then, "Where did we go wrong?" 

The question carries a deeper meaning, and Junkyu can see through all of it. 

_We were perfect. We were happy. It was you and I against the world. We never leave an argument or a fight unresolved. We almost always somehow make it through, but-_

_What went wrong?_

It was the candy perfume. It's still the candy perfume. 

After a moment of contemplation, Junkyu turns to the other side, and Jihoon softly gasps at having realized that he has been awake all this time. Junkyu can’t look him in the eye, so he trains his gaze somewhere in the area around his chest. On his shirt. 

He says, "I knew you've been seeing someone else.” Junkyu pauses, taking a breath, “Her. That woman. The woman I met in your apartment." 

"Wooyeon?" The disbelief in his tone is evident. Junkyu almost lets himself be fooled. "Junkyu, I'm _gay.”_ Jihoon pauses as if to prove his point across and let the words sink in. “You know I would rather shove a fist up my ass than date a woman. It's not that I have anything against them, it's just-” Another pause. “I'm _gay._ " 

"Okay. I get it." Junkyu cuts him off when he looks like he’s about to argue some more. 

When Jihoon speaks again some beats later, his voice has toned down in such a way that it tugs on Junkyu’s heartstrings. 

"I wasn't seeing her when I was with you. I wasn't seeing anyone." 

"How come you're with her now?" 

"Am I? Aren't you the one who's with me right now? If Wooyeon and I are together, then I should be with her, spending Christmas with her family." 

Junkyu says nothing, and Jihoon must take his silence as doubt. He sighs, frustrated. "It's not what you think, Kyu. We're not in that kind of relationship. Wooyeon's a bartendress in the pub we frequent. She first talked to me when I drank away my sorrows after our breakup. Turns out, she was going through the same thing, so we immediately clicked. Between the two of us, she's far stronger than I am - emotionally, speaking.” Jihoon is spacing out, staring at an empty space between them on the sheets. The look in his eyes gives away the idea that he’s winding back to all the memories he had with Wooyeon, no matter how short of a time they had. He talks about the way she’s willing to throw a punch for him, and how she had once mistaken Hyunsuk as his ex-boyfriend, almost squaring up right there in public. 

Junkyu waits for him to finish before speaking, “Jihoon.” 

"Huh?" Jihoon blinks, finally lifting his gaze to meet his eyes, looking as if he has just been awoken from a dream. 

Junkyu asks, "How long has it been since you made a friend?" 

A frown knits between Jihoon’s eyebrows. "I don't…" He studies his ex-boyfriend’s face, trying to discern the meaning behind the question, "What do you mean?" 

Junkyu understands it then. 

All those days being holed up indoors, trying to finish commissions and keeping up with clients' demands and expectations - it had all taken a toll on Jihoon. 

Junkyu recalls how buoyant the other is whenever they go out and meet up with friends, how he smiles at every street vendor, and strikes up small conversations with the children he finds playing at the park. 

A huge chunk of Jihoon’s energy is drawn from the people around him, then there’s Junkyu, the asshole who has realized this too late, and has lashed out at him for merely being himself.

It all makes sense now, why Jihoon’s here - _He doesn’t want to be alone_. 

Junkyu wants to tell him he’s sorry for not seeing it before, for being so stupid, for being so inconsiderate. He wants to tell him that he’s here. He’s right here, and Jihoon isn’t alone, so much so that he reaches out for Jihoon's hand, placing it in the same manner Jihoon held his hand earlier at dinner. 

"Go to sleep." Junkyu says, giving the other’s hand a gentle squeeze. 

Then Jihoon makes to flip his hand over, and for a short heart-wrenching moment he thinks he's pushing him away, but then he slides his fingers right through his, holding his hand tight as if he's afraid that someone might take Junkyu away. With this, Junkyu's heart constricts. 

_December 25_

Junkyu wakes sometime around seven, when the sunlight seeps through the gap in the curtain, and he can just discern the mild clamor from the living room. 

Mind still groggy from sleep, he can't process the lump of warmth pressing against him, and the tickles in his nose when he does so much as tilt his head. 

He peeks out of one eye, and finds Jihoon curled up before him, the top of his head tucked below Junkyu's chin. 

Normally, Junkyu would have gotten out of bed already, but he doesn't have the heart to move and wake Jihoon in the process, knowing how light of a sleeper he is. 

Also, Junkyu doesn't really want to move away from their current position, so he closes his eyes again and tries to go back to sleep, heart racing in his chest. 

  
  


The meaningful glances are dutifully ignored as Junkyu and Jihoon enter the living room together, finding Mom seated on the loveseat by the Christmas tree, and Grandma on the floor with bright red rags sprawled on the coffee table around her. 

"Merry Christmas!" Grandma hurriedly gets on her feet, the garments, which Junkyu realizes with a closer inspection are _clothings,_ all bundled up in her arms. 

Grandma hands out the sweaters, looking at each carefully as if she's trying to pick out which one is for who. When she finally has them sorted out, both Junkyu and Jihoon hold up the sweaters to their bodies. 

They're both bright red, with a big letter 'J' knitted at the front. 

" _Halmeoni,_ they look exactly the same!" 

"No, sweetie." She corrects Junkyu, lifting up a part of his sweater's sleeve. "Yours has one shorter sleeve than the other." 

Junkyu doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He ends up whining, pulling Grandma into a hug and wishing her a merry christmas. 

Jihoon thanks her next, his hug coupled with a rub on the back and a kiss on the cheek.

"I actually knitted that one." Mom says, motioning towards Junkyu's sweater with an apologetic look. 

Junkyu gasps, lifting the sweater again to take another look at it. "You did?" 

"I didn't have enough time to practice, so-" 

Junkyu cuts her off with a hug, "lt's beautiful, mom. Thank you." He then reaches in his pocket, pulling out a small box horribly wrapped with a ribbon. 

"I have something for you too." 

Mom clasps a hand to her mouth, eyes glazing over as she accepts the present from her son. 

Junkyu bites his lips in anticipation, watching as his mom unwraps the tiny package before gingerly lifting the golden necklace for everyone to see. 

At first glance, one might mistake the pendant as a ring embossed with jewels around the perimeter, so Junkyu says, "That's a sun because, you know. I'm the light of your life." 

Tears spill from Mom's eyes, and Junkyu hurriedly pulls her into another hug in an attempt to calm her down. 

As she murmurs thank you's and i love you's in Junkyu's chest, his eyes flit across the room to find Grandma and Jihoon standing beside each other, watching them - Grandma with a teary look, and Jihoon, with a hand on her back, plastering a bright smile upon meeting Junkyu’s eyes. 

"Grandma, I have something for you too!" Junkyu reaches under the Christmas tree and grabs the medium-sized gift box he has safely tucked there a few days ago. 

Grandma squeals in delight, and she lets another once more after opening the present. She grabs the pair of slip-ons and hugs them to her chest. 

Her cries of gratitude are lost in the heavy sigh that slithers next to Junkyu.

"You're really good at giving presents, huh?" Jihoon glances at him with a small, nervous smile, "Now I'm not so sure about mine." 

Junkyu wants to assure him that he’s fine, that every present he has ever received from Jihoon over the years had been the best he had ever gotten, but he’s afraid he might give in to his emotions and say more than what he only intends. 

He turns to Mom and Grandma, chuckling lightly when he sees them taking turns putting the shoes on. "Mom! Grandma! Jihoon prepared something too!" 

Jihoon scoffs in disbelief, glaring at Junkyu with both hands on his hips. The glint in his eyes tells Junkyu that he’s not really mad at him. 

“Go get it.” Junkyu nudges him, and when he doesn’t budge, gives him a light push towards the direction of the stairs. Jihoon trains his eyes on him all the way to the bottom of the stairs, holding that amused gaze on him. He’s only forced to look away when he almost trips on the first step, leaving Junkyu laughing.

Jihoon reappears in a second, and Mom and Grandma huddle around the present as he places it before them, then unwraps it together. 

"My goodness." 

"Jihoon, this is beautiful." 

Ladies will never not gush about a complete tea set. Even more so when it's intricately painted with pink floral patterns. 

Junkyu steps towards them, taking one of the cups and bringing it to his face for a closer inspection. 

Upon confirming it, his heart does that stupid somersault in his chest again, and he almost says what he just discovered out loud until Jihoon grabs him by the arm, stopping him. 

He says in a hushed tone, "Don't tell them I painted it." 

"And have them love you even more? Not a chance." 

Jihoon beams at the playful remark, and he sort of stands there for a second, hesitating, like there's something he wants to say to him. 

Junkyu's already expecting it. 

"I have something for you too, Kyu." 

The words make his heart flutter like he’s a kid waking up on a Christmas morning, finding tons of presents under the tree. Well, okay. It _is_ a Christmas morning, but that’s not why he’s feeling like this, nor is it because of the present either. 

The reason is so simple, so trivial yet it feels all so significant at the same time. 

The longer Jihoon sticks around, the more Junkyu grows comfortable around him, the more the tension frees, the more his heart clenches at the realization that this is all just pretend. 

Jihoon leans in - no heads up, no hesitation, no warning whatsoever, one arm reaching over Junkyu’s shoulder (presumably to lean against the wall behind him). 

It lifts Junkyu from his thoughts, rendering him into such shock that the first thing he does is to shut his eyes.

Jihoon laughs, low but genuinely positive, and his voice has that hint of amusement when he says, “Do you want me to kiss you?” 

"What-? No!" Junkyu takes a step back, but this only makes him hit his head on the shelf in the process, and the look of delight in Jihoon’s face is immediately replaced by concern as he reaches out to rub the affected area. 

Blushing, Junkyu swats his hand away. “Don’t be stupid.” 

As a response, Jihoon only smiles, then he leans in again, much like someone who hasn’t learned their lesson, stopping at a distance which makes Junkyu highly conscious. 

Junkyu hisses, " _Jihoon, I told you, I don't want_ -" 

"I'm just reaching for your present, Kyu. _Don't be stupid_." 

Oh.

That explains the reaching arm over his shoulder. 

He can hear Mom’s and Grandma’s snickers but Junkyu finds that he’s not even the least bit bothered by this, too drawn into Jihoon’s unblinking stare. 

He takes one step back, then he hands out the jewellery box. 

Junkyu peers at him, eyes alight with amusement and curiosity. Before he can ask anything, Jihoon supplies him with an answer in gritted teeth, " _We're acting, remember_?" 

“ _We’ll you’re overdoing it_.”

He gives Jihoon one last glance before opening the box, not forgetting to exaggerate his gasp a bit for the sake of their onlookers. 

Jihoon takes the silver band off the package, takes Junkyu's hand in his, and slips the ring on his finger. 

Junkyu takes a few seconds to himself to admire the ring, watching as the band glints and shines, reminding Junkyu too much of the sparkle in Jihoon’s eyes whenever he catches him looking over in his direction. 

He hears a muffled squeal from the back, then Grandma, " _Is it a proposal_?" 

Jihoon leans in to whisper in his ear, "This is the part where you hug me and say how much you love me." 

Junkyu doesn't need to be told twice. Heart racing, Junkyu slithers right into Jihoon's arms, holding him tightly, burying his head on his neck, inhaling his scent. 

Though he knows Jihoon had only said that for the sake of their _acting_ , Junkyu whispers, “ _I love you._ ” Not another soul has heard it but the two of them, and Junkyu prefers it that way. " _I love you so much, Jihoon._ " 

Jihoon's breath hitches, and if it’s due to the unforeseen declaration or the effect of Junkyu tightening his arms around him, Junkyu finds that he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. For once, he wants to block the thoughts out, to stop with the overthinking that comes with every little action and reaction from his ex-boyfriend. 

He just wants to be in the moment. He wants to bask in this illusion, this play-pretend, this _lie_ , because he knows that the moment they’re out of sight from his Mom and Grandma, he wouldn’t get the chance to hold Jihoon like this again. 

This might just be the last time he’d get to embrace him. 

“Kyu,” Jihoon breathes his name, the hanging tone marking the unspoken words which Junkyu dreads to hear.

With this, Junkyu pulls away, saying, "I didn’t get you anything. I’m sorry.” 

In his defense, he never expected Jihoon to show up. 

Jihoon keeps his arms wrapped around his neck, his eyes searching his, but Junkyu refuses to meet his gaze. 

“Kyu,” There it is again. The hanging tone. 

A beat of silence, then there are gentle touches brushing away the fringe from Junkyu’s eyes. 

“That’s okay, Kyu.” Jihoon eventually says, voice still low, and when Junkyu finally gathers the courage to look at him, he sees him wearing a sweet tender smile, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. 

With all the recent events happening in his life, their family Christmas tradition - which is just them going around the neighborhood to hand out fruit cake - slips Junkyu’s mind, and he’s just as surprised as Jihoon when Mom ushers them to change into warmer clothes.

“You don’t have a _scarf_?” Junkyu pierces the other with a glare right after he has announced that he’s good to go. Actually, it’s not just the lack of a scarf that is ticking him off. Jihoon looks too thinly dressed. 

“I packed in a rush, Kyu.” He explains, and Junkyu ignores him as he heads towards his dresser to take a long puffer jacket and a scarf. 

“Here, put this on.” 

Jihoon takes the jacket from him first, Junkyu watching as he puts it on while he holds the scarf up for him to take next. 

But he doesn’t, saying with a pout on his face that is both obnoxiously annoying and adorable at the same time, “Kyu, I don’t know how to tie a scarf.” 

“This is not a fucking necktie, Jihoon.” 

But Junkyu still gives in, sighing audibly as he throws the garment over Jihoon’s head, and the latter beams brightly. While Junkyu wraps it around his neck, Jihoon glances at the scarf, and with a spark of recognition, he chuckles, saying, “Kyu, this is mine.” 

“Finders, Keepers.” 

“I’m pretty sure you just took this from me without asking.” 

Junkyu does the final wrap with a little too much force, making Jihoon choke a little in the process. 

“Sorry.” Junkyu laughs. 

“Wait, Kyu-” Jihoon holds him by the wrist when he moves towards the door without another word, “I still haven’t given you my real present.” 

Junkyu raises a brow at this. Before he can say anything, Jihoon heads straight to his stuff, ruffling through his bag for a short second before holding up a white envelope. 

Junkyu stares at it skeptically, then Jihoon shoves the envelope into his hand. 

He clears his thoughts of any guesses as he tears the package open, Jihoon reminding him to be careful. 

Junkyu stares at the thin piece of paper for a whole good second before bursting into peals of laughter. 

Jihoon chuckles along, amused by his reaction. 

"I'm taking you like it?" 

"Yes." Junkyu nods, still giggling, "I can't believe you remembered." 

"The way you whined about _Very Very Strawberry_ for a whole week, there's no way I couldn’t." 

Junkyu stares at the Baskin Robbins coupon again, already seeing himself tucking this away somewhere safe, and never spending it, no matter how much he’d crave for _Very Very Strawberry_ again.

"So this means you're taking the ring back?" 

"Huh?" 

"Here-" Junkyu starts to take the jewellery off his finger, but Jihoon is quick to stop him, wrapping his hand around his. 

"I meant for you to keep it, Kyu. Seriously." He adds when he senses the doubt on Junkyu's features. 

Junkyu starts to feel an overwhelming urge to embrace him again, but he knows there’s no excuse for him to do that now, so he stays still. 

"I'll make it up to you. For this. For everything."

Jihoon shakes his head, “There’s no need, Kyu. I marched into this on my own, even after you told me to forget about the entire plan.”

“Why?” 

Jihoon blinks, surprised. “I told you. My parents are in Bali.” 

“No, I mean _why_.” 

_Why are you really here, Jihoon?_

Junkyu would have said the question out loud had Jihoon not walked towards the bed and plopped himself down on the mattress. From the way his brows knit into a frown, Junkyu can tell he’s thinking. He can almost hear the gears in his head whirring. 

“Fine.” He says finally. “If you really want to know the truth, I came here for another selfish reason.” 

“Because you don’t want to be alone?” Junkyu guesses. 

“No, besides that.” Jihoon fixes his gaze at an empty space on the floor. “It’s true that I don’t want to lie to your mom and your grandma, but also because-” He lets out a laugh here, but nothing about it is humorous, “It meant that I have to go from being your boyfriend to pretending to be someone that I’m not.” 

“I didn’t want to pretend, Kyu, but my desperation outweighed my pride - and dare I say, _dignity_ \- that I realized that having you in pretense is way better than not having you at all.” 

Jihoon pauses to take a breath, shaking his head with a small somber smile, “The few months without you made me realize that. Kyu,” He finally looks at him, and Junkyu’s heart swells in an instant, “I don’t even know how I survived last night without pulling you close to me.” 

If there’s a good time to finally move and head towards where he is, it’s now. Junkyu makes his way to the bed as Jihoon buries his face in his hands, chest shaking with every breath. Junkyu leaves no space in between them as he settles down beside him, placing a hand on Jihoon’s back in an attempt for comfort. 

There’s so many things Junkyu wants to say to him.

_Last night was hard for me too._

_Everything about this killed me too._

_I want you back._

But how can he say that without sounding too desperate? 

Maybe he can start with the words, 

_I'm sorry._ or _I missed you too._ or _Come back home._

Instead he says, “I wish you could hear what I’m thinking right now.” 

Jihoon finally extracts his palms away from his face, traces of tears smudging his beautiful face.

“I wish you heard my mind the entire time, Ji. From the moment I opened the door and found you standing on our porch, to this very moment right now.” 

Jihoon sniffs, eyes wide in curiosity but still a little teary. Junkyu laughs at the adorable view and fights the urge to kiss him. 

“ _Then_ , you might not have ended up bawling like a baby.” 

Jihoon wipes at his eyes, huffing out indignantly, “ _Junkyu_. Just tell me.” 

This only makes Junkyu acquire the inclination to tease him more, cupping his face in his hands before pulling him close. 

Jihoon blinks. Junkyu blinks. One is patiently waiting for something to happen, the other is lost in his own thoughts. 

Junkyu forgot what he was supposed to say. Having Jihoon so close, all thoughts disperse out of his mind like an effect of some nonverbal spell. Though he can't recall the words that he is supposed to spew out, he knows too well of the feelings he has drawn them from.

“I love you.” Junkyu blurts out. “I still do. I never stopped. I don’t want to stop-” 

He sucks in a breath when Jihoon suddenly draws closer, stopping only when their foreheads bump, and the tips of their noses graze. 

Fuck, how he forgot about Jihoon and his tendency to _tease_. 

“Jihoon-” 

He sees a slither of a smile before Jihoon finally leans in to catch his lips, and just like that, all of the missing pieces find their way back together. 

He thought he’d never get to have this chance again - to feel the press of his lips against his, to taste his mouth, to let him rake his fingers through his hair, and have Junkyu dissolve into his touch. 

Jihoon lightly pushes into him as they deepen the kiss, the pulse in Junkyu's ears throbbing more loudly with every second. When he can’t arch his back any further, Junkyu falls on the mattress, and Jihoon, who must not have expected the sudden drop, ends up colliding their foreheads with an aching bump at an attempt to chase the other's lips. 

Junkyu cries out in pain, but not before chuckling at their clumsiness. 

Jihoon, one hand on the bed to hold himself up, smiles down at Junkyu with tinted cheeks. 

“I love you too, Junkyu.” 

Warmth blooms in Junkyu’s chest, and he reaches out to caress Jihoon’s cheek like he couldn’t get enough of him. Then he bends forward to give him another sweet lingering kiss. 

Jihoon huffs out a breath after pulling away, saying, “You have no idea how much I missed kissing you.” 

“Keep it in your pants, mister. I still have to introduce you to grandma. Properly, this time.”

Jihoon lets out a laugh. “Oh, they’d be so confused.” 

“Help me up.” 

Jihoon pushes himself off the bed before stretching his arms out for him, and Junkyu thinks it only natural for him to lose his balance and fall right into his arms. He groans satisfactorily as he buries his face on the other's shoulder. 

Jihoon’s chest shakes with another chuckle. "Let's go, Kyu before _halmeoni_ walks in on us and speculates another dirty thought." 

“She won’t be wrong this time, though.” 

They head downstairs with their hands intertwined together, eliciting strange looks from the women who have been waiting patiently for them to come. 

And if Mom and Grandma notice this brand new but better - _way better_ \- light around them, they don't point it out. 

**Author's Note:**

> just to clarify: [the candy perfume] is the scent of the pub _itself_ , hence why junkyu had sniffed it out of jihoon waaay before they broke up... lol ((he finds this out later on,, he meets wooyeon and her girlfriend - yes she's gay too - and they all live happily ever after))
> 
> happy holidays! <3
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/excorde)


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